


Hey Jules

by Little_Millie_Nightingale



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baby Winchesters (Supernatural), Dad!DeanWinchester, Dean Winchester Sings, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Men of Letters Bunker, MoLBunker, POV Dean Winchester, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 03:38:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15963896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Millie_Nightingale/pseuds/Little_Millie_Nightingale
Summary: Dean Winchester returns from a hunt to save his wife from a crying baby. Tooth Rotting Fluff!





	Hey Jules

Dean Winchester is quiet as he walks through the hallways of the bunker, his battered hold-all slung over his shoulder. Sam had dropped him off just outside the Bunker’s main entrance, before going on a much needed supply run. Leaving Dean to follow the familiar corridors back to his room – back to you…   
The distressed wailing of an infant has him picking up his pace; dumping the bag in the corridor as he pushes open the door to his room. For a moment he forgets why he was there, and finds himself simply standing in the doorway, drinking in the sight before him.   
You stand facing him, leaning over the crib that sits at the end of the bed, attention solely focused on the baby. You’re cooing softly to her, and Dean closes his eyes to listen, your voice is the most beautiful he’d ever heard.   
“I know, sweetie, I know, it’ll be okay…” You sooth, you look haggard Dean thinks, as if you’ve been up with the little one the entire three days he’s been away. He forgets sometimes that the hunts are hard on you too, at home with the baby. But regardless of the messy hair and crumpled PJ’s, regardless of the slumped shoulders and the weariness in your voice, Dean Winchester still thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Y/N?” He calls softly, and you raise your head, blessed relief filling your face as you lay eyes on him.   
“Dean?!” He loves the way you say his name, and abandons his bag outside as he moves through the room toward you. “Oh thank God, she won’t settle…” the bags under your eyes are heavy and God you look exhausted.   
“Has she had you up the entire time?” He asks, leaning over and taking the wailing baby into his arms. She doesn’t stop crying, but she does quieten a little, just enough for you to breathe a soft sigh of relief. He chuckles softly, and with one arm full of baby he wraps his free arm around your waist, tugging you close and planting a kiss to your brow. “I’ve got her.” he says softly, “Go shower, relax,” and when you step back he turns his attention to the still unhappy infant in his arms.   
“Now then,” He soothes softly and she looks up at him, blinking those big green eyes. “I thought you and me had a deal, kiddo.” He says, running a finger down the middle of her forehead. As the shower turns on in their modified bathroom turns on, he smiles softly when he hears your sigh, he might be a hunter, but he could never have gone through what you did to bring your daughter into the world… “‘be good for your momma’, huh? Remember that one?” She babbles and then hiccups, and he chuckles softly, glad that at least now she was settling. He rocks her for a while, humming softly, but the little Winchester refuses to close her eyes and sleep - stubborn like her momma.   
“Daddy’s girl,” comes a soft voice from the doorway, he turns to look at you and chuckles, your towel dried hair hangs in strands and you’re wearing one of his large t-shirts, too tired to do much else you pad across to the bed and clop face down on top of the covers.   
“She is.” He says, and trying not to jostle her, he kicks off his shoes and pads to the bed, watching with an amused grin as you wiggle up to the cushions, spread eagle.“Scooch up, I want cuddles with my girls.”   
“Demanding,” You huff softly, but you roll over regardless, making space for him. As Dean settles down, the baby starts squirming again.   
“Hush.” He says, “None of that now.” He jiggles her gently, and she warbles – a sound between a cry and a laugh.   
“Sing to her.” You suggest, covering a yawn.   
“Huh?”   
“Sing to her, she always goes straight to sleep when you sing…”   
“So do you.” He says.   
“Exactly.”   
He laughs and slides a gentle arm around you, tugging close, your favourite place to sleep is in his arms, and `he’s not about to deny you a thing right now. The baby has quieted, looking up at him expectantly. He hums softly, finding his voice, and a little courage, before he starts to sing.   
“Hey Jules, don’t make it bad.   
Take a sad song and make it better,   
Remember to let him into your heart,   
Then you can start to make it better…”   
It’s not the original. He knows that, but what else could he do when little ‘Jude’ was born a Juliette?   
The sound of his voice brings a smile to your face, you love his voice as much as he loves yours. Dean smiles too and presses a soft kiss to your forehead before he continues singing.   
“Hey Jules, don’t be afraid.   
You were made to go out and get him   
The minute you let her under your skin,   
Then you begin to make it better…”   
He hums softly, a grin spreading across his face as your head sinks to his shoulder, Jules isn’t the only one who can be put to sleep with a song – she gets it from her mother. He smiles softly and looks down at his daughter, her green eyes are drooping.   
“Dean?” The quiet voice of his younger brother comes just moments before Sam’s tall frame peaks around the door. Juliette murmurs unhappily, her little hands fisting in the air. Dean winces, pressing a finger to his lips to hush his brother as he rocks her. Sam grins, nodding, and leans against the door frame to listen.   
“And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jules, refrain,   
Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders.   
For well you know that it’s a fool who plays it cool   
By making her world a little colder…”   
Sam’s eyes have grown distant, and Dean knows they’re both remembering a time long ago, when Dean would sing that song to Sam as a toddler, remembering a woman with blonde hair who would sing it to them. It felt right lying here, his daughter and wife in his arms, singing this song. Juliette yawns – its surprising how wide a little baby can open her mouth – before she sinks deeper into sleep.   
“Hey Jules, don’t let me down,   
You have found him, now go and get him.   
Remember to let him into your heart,   
Then you can start to make it better…” 

He pauses, and the silence is interrupted only by your soft breathing and the little puffs of breath as little Juliette snores peacefully. “Surprised your singing didn’t make her cry again.” Sam teases, keeping his voice low so he doesn’t disturb his niece - He’s smitten with her, but so is everyone who meets her.   
“Shadap, I sing beautifully.” Dean replies, pouting at him.   
Sam grins, “Sure you do.” He chuckles. “G’night Jerk.”   
“Bitch.” Comes Dean’s automatic reply and the brothers share an idiotic grin between them. “G’night Sam.”


End file.
